


Steve Reads the News and Tony Gets a Date

by GuardianMira



Category: Marvel, Marvel 616
Genre: Bisexual Tony Stark, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, bc they're queerbaiting fucks, but i'm weak and easily pleased so here we are, marvel did that thing where they allude to tony's bisexuality in a way they can easily deny later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 05:58:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16212878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianMira/pseuds/GuardianMira
Summary: Steve finds out Tony’s dating profile is open to both women and men, and decides to do something about it.





	Steve Reads the News and Tony Gets a Date

**Author's Note:**

> inspired, of course, by the latest issue of tony stark: iron man. unbeta'd.

Steve tries not to pay attention to the gossip rags, and this is why: it ends with him hovering in the doorway of the common living room, about to make an ass of himself in front of his best friend.

For a minute he just watches. Tony’s got a stack of paperwork on the table in front of him, and another on the arm of the couch next to a precariously balanced coffee mug. Two other mugs lay abandoned nearby – one on the corner of the table, one on the ground. His shirtsleeves are rolled up, and the top buttons are undone so that Steve can follow the line of his neck to his collarbone. His hair’s growing out and it flops over his forehead, a slight curl to the ends. He’s taken off his shoes. His socked feet are folded under him.

He looks so relaxed. Steve almost turns right around; he doesn’t want to start a conversation that might put tension back in Tony’s overworked shoulders, doesn’t want to make Tony feel uncomfortable here in the home he’s given them all.

But the greater impulse, the one that sees an empty space beside Tony and demands he fill it, pushes him forward. He clears his throat and comes around the small fold-up table where Tony’s working so that he can sit next to him on the couch.

Tony catches sight of him and his whole face lights up. His eyes crinkle and he smiles his real smile, a little lopsided. The sharp edges of his beard are starting to soften; he needs a trim.

If they were dating, Steve could reach over and cup Tony’s jaw with his fingers, rub his thumb over his stubble. He could take his hand away and put his mouth there instead. Steve’s chest hurts with want.

“Back early,” Tony says. “I guess it went well?”

He’d come straight from a mission. The news alerts had popped up on his phone on the way back; Steve had rushed through debrief, rushed through his shower, and gone straight home to the Tower as fast as he could.

So eager to get his heart broken. Steve holds back a sigh.

“It was fine,” he says. “Anything, uh… new?”

Tony shrugs and turns back to his paperwork.

“Nah. It’s quiet here today. I’m enjoying it while it lasts.”

“I heard—” Steve begins, and stops himself. He should’ve thought of a smoother way to bring this up. But it’s too late. Tony’s looking at him again with those dark blue eyes. There’s a smudge of ink on his nose that makes Steve want to combust.

“Heard what?” Tony says, oblivious to Steve’s inner turmoil.

“Just, that you put up a dating profile,” Steve mumbles. “It didn’t work out with—”

“That’s been over for a while.” Tony smiles a little sadly.

“But a dating app? Surely you don’t need _that_.” Steve doesn’t mean to sound judgmental. There’s nothing _wrong_ with dating apps. But Tony’s so handsome and brilliant and kind. He could have anyone; for that, at least, he needs no technological assistance.

“I thought it’d be a nice change of pace,” Tony says. “Maybe if I stopped picking up people I work with, I might be able to make a relationship last more than a month.”

Steve should end the conversation there, he knows. He’s already pried into Tony’s personal business too much, and what Tony’s just said tells him everything he needs to know – he doesn’t want to date people he meets through work anymore. That includes superheroes. That includes Steve.

And now Tony has that slight unhappy furrow in his brow. Steve wants to change the subject, tell him about his mission, say something to make him laugh. Forget all about this.

But if he walks away the question will just keep eating at him, and he needs to give himself closure. He’s known all along he doesn’t stand a chance with Tony. Maybe hearing it from Tony himself will finally make his stupid heart let go of its little fantasy.

Besides – what’ll he do if Tony brings a boyfriend back to the Tower one day, and Steve never even tried? Never even let Tony know he was an option?

“I didn’t know you were interested in, um, men,” Steve says clumsily. “That’s— I guess they might’ve got it wrong on the news, but—”

“Not wrong. I’ve been out as bi for a while,” says Tony, just like that. “I thought everyone knew.”

He glances sidelong at Steve, as if nervous about his reaction.

“If I’d known,” Steve says, “I would’ve asked you out years ago.”

“What?” Tony asks, faintly. His pen has gone limp in his hand. His eyes are very wide, and very blue against the long dark lashes framing them. If Steve kissed him right now he could slip his tongue between his parted lips; it would be so easy.

“I thought everyone knew,” Steve echoes him. “I’ve been carrying a torch since— well, since before I knew you were Iron Man.”

Tony stares at him, silent.

“Not that— not that I expect you to—” Steve falters. He’s starting to feel like one hell of a fool. “I know you only see me as a friend, and that’s okay. I never want to lose your friendship again. We’ve worked so hard to fix things between us, and— but when I read the news I realized I, well, that I never said anything to you. And I thought that I. That I should.”

Tony still hasn’t said a word. Steve shifts his weight to his feet and starts to get up.

“I’ll leave you to your work, then,” he says. His face feels so hot he’s surprised the skin doesn’t melt off. God. He’ll have to apologize to Tony later. Maybe in a month or so when he can look him in the eye again.

Tony’s hand shoots out and grabs his wrist before he can finish getting up.

“Sorry, I blacked out for a minute there,” Tony says, a little hysterically. “I thought I heard you say you wanted to ask me out.”

“I do.” Steve drops back into his seat, cautiously. He scoots closer to Tony, who’s looking at him like he’s an experiment that’s going to blow up any second now.

“You— since before— _really_?”

“Tony,” he says helplessly. “I’m not kidding when I say everyone knows. It’s the Avengers’ longest-running inside joke. Captain America and his hopeless crush on his buddy Iron Man. I thought you never said anything so that I wouldn’t feel awkward.”

He stops talking, because Tony’s face has gone frighteningly pale.

“How could you think that?” he asks, his voice wretched. “That I’d ignore you like that, that I wouldn’t— that I don’t—”

“It’s okay,” he says, placing his free hand over Tony’s, which is still clasped around his other wrist. “I know you care, Tony. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same. You’ve never made me feel ignored.”

Tony takes a slow, shaky breath. “I’ve been in love with you almost since we met.”

Abruptly, Steve’s understanding of this whole conversation flips itself upside down. The best-case scenario he’d envisioned had involved a moderately interested Tony agreeing to a date without laughing at him. He hadn’t considered this. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Tony, amazingly, feels just the same way he does.

_You idiot_ , he thinks to himself, even as he gently pulls Tony’s hand from his wrist so that he can wrap it up in both of his.

“I would like,” Steve says, “to take you out to dinner. Not like we usually do. Not as friends. As a date.”

Tony nods rapidly. “Yes. Anytime. Anything you want.”

Steve has no doubt Tony means that. For a moment the relief almost overwhelms him – not just that he gets to have this, that he didn’t damage his friendship with Tony irreparably – but also that it’s _him_ Tony entrusts his heart to. Steve will be careful with him where others weren’t. Steve will accept Tony’s _anything you want_ and not ask more than Tony can give without hurting himself.

He strokes his fingers over Tony’s knuckles, and Tony shivers. He looks a little lost, like he doesn’t fully believe this is real.

“Should I wait ’til after dinner to kiss you?” Steve asks softly.

Tony makes a sound like he’s being strangled, and his grip on Steve’s hand tightens. Steve tugs experimentally; Tony leans in, and Steve frees one of his hands so he can touch that defined jawline he’d been admiring earlier. Tony’s stubble feels scratchy and rough, which he’d anticipated, but his imagination hadn’t been able to capture how it would feel to see Tony _respond_ to his touch. Tony’s breath hitches, and his eyes flutter shut for an instant before he opens them again, as if afraid to look away from Steve.

It’s as easy to kiss him as he’d thought it would be. Easier, even. Tony meets him halfway, practically falling into Steve. He’s seen Tony kiss people – glimpses of Tony sharing a moment with one or another of his girlfriends before Steve tore his eyes away, feeling sick – but the way Tony kisses him now is different. There’s none of the restraint, none of the smooth confidence. He gasps into Steve’s mouth, melts into him. Steve gets his arms around him and pulls him in closer, and Tony’s all soft and shuddery, so Steve strokes his back and keeps his kisses gentle.

Then something changes, maybe just the air; Tony tears his mouth away long enough to throw himself into Steve’s lap. He presses in as close as he can get, so Steve is pinned between Tony’s chest and the couch. Tony is searingly warm, his strong arms around Steve’s shoulders and his obvious erection against Steve’s stomach and his gorgeous mouth, all star-bright points of heat. Steve has his hands on Tony’s hips, ostensibly to steady him, but it feels more like he’s holding on for dear life as Tony takes his mouth in a desperate, toe-curling, possessive kiss.

_I could’ve been doing this ten years ago,_ Steve thinks, but he’s too dazed to be as furious with himself as he should be. And it’s hard to be upset about lost time when _now_ is so powerful, when he and Tony have the weight of so many years and so many fights and so many apologies and so many victories and so much happiness anchoring them together.

It’s a long time before they separate; at least, that’s how it feels. What finally forces them apart is the sound of the coffee mug falling off the couch and shattering.

They look at each other, frozen in shock. And then a laugh bubbles out of Steve, and that sets Tony off. Nothing is ever going to be better, Steve is pretty sure, than the feeling of Tony giggling into Steve’s neck, clinging to his shoulders just to stay upright. He can feel the laughter in Tony’s chest, and under his hands against Tony’s back.

“Tomorrow,” he says into Tony’s hair. “Let’s go out tomorrow night.”

“Okay,” Tony says, instantly.

“And tonight,” Steve says, “I thought it might be nice if we stayed in.”

“Stay in and…” Tony begins suggestively. Steve bites down a grin.

“Stay in, and watch a movie, and cuddle,” Steve tells him firmly. He gets a hand under Tony’s chin so he can tilt his face up, make sure Tony’s looking at him. “I want to do this right. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tony’s smile is fragile, but he nods. “I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I’m… trying, at least.”

That’s good enough for Steve. More than. Because when Tony Stark really tries at something, Steve knows, he usually succeeds.

They eventually disentangle themselves from each other and abandon the couch. They pick up Tony’s paperwork and clean up the broken mug, and they retreat to Steve’s quarters. Tony keeps glancing at him furtively, as if having to remind himself Steve’s still there, and Steve’s no better. He can’t stop touching Tony, brushing his hair out of his eyes or squeezing his shoulder or wrapping an arm around his waist. Everything between them feels tentative and new, even though it’s neither. It’s strong and certain and a decade old.

It’s that thought that relaxes him, gives him the courage to pull Tony back into his arms as soon as they’re settled in Steve’s living room. This time Tony doesn’t miss a beat. He curls against Steve’s chest and bickers with him about what to watch as if nothing at all has changed.

“There’s something we need to do before we start the movie,” Steve says.

Tony tilts his head almost upside down so he can look at Steve’s face. “What?”

“Delete your dating profile,” Steve says. “Told you you didn’t need it.”

He sounds grumpy, but he’s _not_. Really. He just wants to demolish every trace of anything on the planet that might suggest Tony is single, which is perfectly reasonable.

“It got me a date, didn’t it?” Tony says, in that sly tone of voice that means Steve is in for some merciless ribbing. “If I hadn’t made it, you probably would’ve gone on thinking I was straight for another ten years.”

“You thought I was straight, too,” he points out.

“Mostly I thought it didn’t matter if you were straight or not, because you’d never want me.” Tony pauses. “Oops. I killed the mood, didn’t I?”

“Nope,” Steve says, before Tony can tense up. “Just proved my point. You never needed a dating app. You could’ve had anyone you wanted all along, without even trying, _especially_ if that person was me.”

Steve runs his hand soothingly through Tony’s hair, letting himself enjoy the way the thick locks part and curl around his fingers. To his delight, Tony moans and goes boneless in his arms.

“You always have to be right,” Tony says, but he’s practically purring as Steve keeps playing with his hair, so Steve decides to take it as praise. If he’d known he could diffuse Tony’s emotional spirals just by doling out a bit of physical affection, it would’ve saved him a lot of trouble over the last few years, that was for sure.

They pick a movie to watch, but Steve won’t remember it later. His mind wanders to tomorrow night, already formulating a plan for his first date with Tony.

It’s ten years overdue. Steve’s going to make sure it was worth the wait.


End file.
